


To Be Seen

by CapGirlCanuck



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Based on a dream I had, Brother-Sister Relationships, Bucky Barnes on the run, Canadian soldiers, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mild Language, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, War in Afghanistan, run in with the Winter Soldier, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapGirlCanuck/pseuds/CapGirlCanuck
Summary: Sgt. Arianna Prichard knows the stories about the Winter Soldier. But she also knows the stories about Bucky Barnes.She just never expected to find him in the middle of her own war.Based off of the coolest dream I have ever had.





	To Be Seen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Griselda_Banks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griselda_Banks/gifts), [SergeantToMyCaptain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SergeantToMyCaptain/gifts).



> Several months ago I literally dreamed I was a soldier in Afghanistan and I met the Winter Soldier. Thankfully I took very detailed notes in the minutes after I woke up. When I shared it with my friends, they demanded this fic. (Grizz, you can stop screaming now.) I did NOT expect it to get so long!  
> I had wanted to write this for Canada Day, but well, let's just say I was struggling with it. It is a special salute to my country, though, and to the amazing men and women who defend it. There are probably more inaccuracies than usual for my stuff, just because this _is_ based off a dream. My apologies. 
> 
> In celebration of a year on Ao3, and with the greatest of thanks to Megan, without whom none of this would have ever happened. Happy Birthday!

Quiet moments like this were rare; the land hushed while it awaited the light of dawn. She saw how the cloud formed by her breath lessened, and glanced up at the stars beginning to fade in the east.

Her brother’s presence behind her was a warm, solid shield. His fingers moved quickly around her head, deftly weaving strands of hair in a tight braid, efficiency being paramount these days.

She savoured each gentle tug, each brush of the work-worn hands against the back of her neck. Most days, this was the closest thing she got to a hug, from the man she adored above all others.

Only the snap of the hair elastic brought her awake, breathing deep, settling her feet on the rock-hard ground, taking in the smell of dust and ancient land.

His hands settled on her shoulders, and they stood for a moment, both watching the sky, before the man sighed, and she felt the current of tension once more zinging through his nerves.

She heard him open his mouth, the intake of breath.

“Fabs says he spotted the Winter Soldier.”

_“What?!”_

She snapped her mouth shut, and twisted her head to stare up at the man. Blue-grey eyes met blue-grey eyes—the only feature they shared—and she turned completely around.

He was frowning, that familiar furrow between his brows, serious as always. But… She reined in her emotions, though questions began to race through her mind.

“The _Winter Soldier?_ ” She bit her lip. “As in: Sergeant James Barnes.” The last three words came slowly, quietly.

Her brother gave a single nod.

She looked away, staring into the distance without seeing. The echo of her grandfather’s voice, the pictures painted by his stories, and the museum photographs, overlaid with the voice of a TV anchor and the images of a man in black, bristling with weapons, the sun glinting on his metal arm. And that red star…

She gave her head a quick shake, and snorted. “What the _hell_ is the Winter Soldier doing in Afghanistan?”

There went the Eyebrows of Disapproval, as always if he chanced to hear her swear. _(“I thought they were supposed to do a better job of raising you than me.”)_ But then he merely shrugged.

“Corporal Fabbri said he saw a man with dark hair, light skin, and a silver hand. Had him in his rifle sight, but didn’t believe what he was seeing.”

There was a moment’s silence, and she felt her heartrate kicking up. She swallowed convulsively. “Does that mean he’s here with HYDRA?” She spoke quickly, holding back the fear. But it must have showed in her eyes, because her brother stepped back, his eyes narrowing sharply.

“Sergeant,” he rapped out, and she jerked to attention, arms rigid at her sides, chin up. “Our mission is to see the medical team safely out, and safely back. Every life is on the line, and every life matters. No one more than another. Is that clear?”

“Yes, _sir.”_ She felt the steel in her spine, lifted her chin, matched that laser gaze.

“Now get back to the barracks and wake up the rest of the team. We’re cleared to move out as soon as we’re ready.”

“Understood, Chief Warrant Officer Winchester,” she said, snapping off a completely unnecessary salute, before she turned and marched away.

As she climbed the hill back up to the barracks where the soldiers lived (if one could call it living), her eyes passed over the walls of sandbags and metal framing, passed over the mountains looming to the north, and rested on the shadowed soldiers lying or crouching along the top of the walls above the barracks on guard duty. Above their heads the sky lightened.

 _The Winter Soldier. Of all the_ _–_ She shook her head. _Well, this should be a fun day._

****

Arianna had sworn she would follow her brother to hell and back. She’d done it a few times already. But this was a lot closer to the real thing.

The sun burned out of the sky, scorching the bleak Middle-Eastern land. Her body armour and heavy combat gear seemed to have formed an oven, encasing her body perfectly, baking the fluids out of her. And they hadn’t even hit the hottest part of the day.

She felt sweat rolling off her nose, and ignored it, letting her eyes slide two soldiers ahead, to the man walking point. Those narrow shoulders, belying his strength. Today she could read the tension there too. A tension that had just increased ten-fold.

_The Winter Soldier._

Already it had been a rough week; IEDs had taken Corporal Horvat’s leg, and cracked Private Leslie’s head open. Arianna remembered her hands covered in Horvat’s blood. Sergeant Trojanovic had gotten shot through the arm, Specialist Dickinson nicked in the helmet, in a skirmish two days prior. No one had been killed. Yet.

_The Winter Soldier._

And their greatest sniper was on the ground. The Lieutenant had picked Fabs for upper duties. _I trust Fabbri. But not as much as you, brother._

CWO Carl Winchester was the greatest shot in the Canadian Army, at least in Sergeant Arianna Prichard’s mind. And not because they were related either.

No one knew they were related; Arianna had been adopted when she was ten. They just told people that they were childhood friends. That they’d lived on the same street and done everything together, like fish with crickets instead of worms, or see who could drink the most pop before getting sick. That they’d fought bullies for so long they decided to keep doing it for a job.

Of course, that wasn’t the whole story.

Arianna smiled a secret little smile at those shoulders. _To hell and back._

_(“What about Heaven?” he had asked once. She had smiled and shaken her head. “Don’t you read your Bible? When we get there, we ain’t coming back.” His smile was soft. “Well, let’s run through a few more hells then.”)_

The squad, plus four extra medics and the Doc, tramped on, following a path that only existed on the map.

_The Winter Soldier._

Arianna knew that name, that title. The Ghost, they also called him. The assassin that appeared, killed, and vanished. Sometimes he killed several, sometimes only one. For half a century, the legend had continued.

But that wasn’t all she knew now. Now she knew something she would never have guessed in a million years. She knew he was a man, a man with a name, a real one: James Buchanan Barnes. American soldier in World War II, sniper for the Howling Commandos special ops squad, and, above all, best friend of Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America.

They were legends Arianna had grown up on, her and Carl’s favourites, even though they were Canadian. Legends of courage, sacrifice and brotherhood. Legends that had carried them through more than one hell. It had become their MO for tackling life: he was Captain Canada, and she was Sergeant Winchester, the best sniper in the Canadian army. And together they were unstoppable.

Now of course, Winnie was the sniper, and she wasn’t even a Winchester. And Captain America was alive.

Captain Rogers had been the one to expose the American intelligence agency called SHIELD as being controlled by HYDRA, and Arianna had sat in the mess hall, watching the news footage of Steve Rogers fighting a man with the face of someone dead. Someone who had been his best friend. She had seen the look of Rogers’s face, and would not soon forget it.

But since HYDRA’s downfall, the Winter Soldier was off his leash, and there was no denying what he _could_ do, no matter who he _had_ been. Now he was here, in Afghanistan. And not just in the country, but in their sector.

Instinctively, Arianna glanced over her shoulder, eyes scanning the rock that rose to the right of the column. Fabbri and McGinn were up there, guardian angels with guns.

Then she glanced ahead at those shoulders. _To hell and back_.

****

Dust, gunfire, grit in her teeth.

An explosion rocking the ground. Another building on the edge of the town collapsed.

Arianna kept her head down, hunched over the man lying with his head in her lap, one of her gloves clenched between his teeth. He was ANA, a national; thin, wiry, his black hair full of dust and debris. His eyes were closed, sweat pouring down his brown face; not a sound escaped him, except for his harsh breathing.

Around her the others swarmed, tending to the gaping wound in his thigh, hands moving to apply bandages, a tourniquet, voices calling out the need for a medivac, someone else shouting they’d lost contact with Whiskey Company.

She could see without looking the three soldiers kneeling in a half circle around them, on guard, while the medics worked to save a life. They had no way of knowing if the village was cleared or not. Doc Finn crouched a couple feet back, she glanced up met his questioning gaze. She nodded, indicating the wounded man was conscious, and Doc nodded back, glanced over his shoulder to call to the radio man. Arianna glanced down at the Afghani man, wondering what his name was. Her Dari wasn’t great, but she knew the most important phrases, and she used them now.

_“Don’t be afraid. We will help you. It will be okay.”_

For a moment he opened his eyes, and stared right into hers, black eyes met blue-grey.

Three shots rang out in quick succession.

Arianna had her head up in time to see the impact of the last bullet, to watch Doc Finn flop forward, face down in the dust.

She sat still, staring, everything on her periphery going into slow motion, while the blood pooled around Doc’s shoulders and neck. The fresh, living red always surprised her, vividly contrasted against the ancient grey of Afghan’s dusty ground. Everything had slowed, except that blood flow and her mind: _He’s dead._

And then she blinked and she was moving and she was the one kneeling beside Doc, the fight to save the Afghani man still going on behind her. There was nothing they could for Doc, they all seemed to know that. Still Arianna had her duties; she reached for his shoulder, prepared to turn him over, her other hand going to his neck, searching for a pulse she knew she wouldn’t find.

She saw the hole, perfectly placed on the back of his neck.

A single harsh curse next to her, almost in her ear.

Arianna jerked her head up, as Winchester reached past her, his hand hovering over the Doc’s head, but not touching. Then he twisted his head to meet her eyes, the same thought running between them. _Sniper._ And a freaking good one.

Winnie mouthed two words: _Winter Soldier._ Something in his eyes snapped.

And then he was on his feet, rifle in his hands, cursing the Winter Soldier. “You do _not_ do this to my men!” he said, his voice trembling with… rage? Fear? Guilt? Hatred.

“I will kill him,” he bit out, swinging around.

Arianna’s senses all snapped back into their proper order. “No!”

She was breathing fast, leaping to grab her brother, grasping for a strap of his pack, a handful of uniform, anything. But he was jogging away, not even glancing over his shoulder; even over the babel of voices and now more distant warfare, she heard him click off the safety.

Without a second thought, she was running after him.

“Winnie! Winnie, stop! You can’t! You don’t know it was him!” Her next words were lost in a gulp for air. “–don’t even know if he’s here! Stop!”

Arianna was running, her calls bouncing off the empty, square, mud and stone houses she passed. She glimpsed her brother ahead of her, turning a corner, and she leapt from the road way, scrambling through the rocks and debris left behind by the bombs, trying to angle ahead of him, pushing herself into a flat out run. She could feel the sweat running down her face, blinked it away frantically. _Dammit, Winnie!_ She leapt up onto another road, ducked around the corner of another house.

She was three strides out into the open before she realized it.

It was the open square, the market place? Or maybe a school yard; over near a long low building was the twisted remains of what had maybe been a playground. Even as she pulled up, her boots skidding in the dirt, her eyes took in a dark figure in the shadow of a building on the far side of the open space.

A man. All in black, rifle slung over his shoulder. Somehow, she even saw the white of the cigarette between his fingers.

Then she was dropping flat, throwing herself to the side, rolling a couple feet down into a ditch, where she lay flat, trying desperately to control her breathing, and listen. There were no shouts, no shots, and then she had her head up, eyes scanning for danger, searching for a hiding place.

There. Maybe twelve feet away, a bombed chunk of tin roofing had fallen so that it partially overhung the shallow trench she lay in. She hustled, at least as much as one can hustle doubled over, with her hands over her head. Dove under the sheet of tin, and caught her breath, listened, looked.

There was only enough room for someone as small as Arianna. She saw that the other end of the chunk of corrugated roofing was not resting flat on the bank, but balanced on two heaps of rubble, forming a gap about a foot high. A perfect spy hole.

Cautiously, Arianna wormed forward to see better, peering out across the open square. She needed to check that the man in black was still there. _The village was supposed to be cleared! How come they didn’t warn us-? Dickinson was saying he lost contact with Whiskey_ _–_ Her head brushed against the roof of her hiding place, and she froze. She’d lost her helmet.

She lay still, mentally cursing herself. _What the hell are you doing running off after him like that, you idiot girl? You’re_ not _a girl out here, you’re a soldier, you can’t just do whatever you want! You should have waited for orders, grabbed another couple men. Stupid, stupid!_ But then she gritted her teeth, and swallowed her growl of frustration.

_Focus. Maybe that’s the guy who shot Doc._

Steadying her breathing, she lifted her head again and peered out. There.

He looked like he was on a smoke break, standing behind a store or something, except for the gun slung at his back. At the angle he was standing, Arianna couldn’t tell what kind of rifle it was. He wore a loose black shirt, loose black pants; she knew he was no ANA. He was Taliban.

Taliban or insurgents were like mice: see one, there’s a dozen more in hiding. But Whiskey Company had already swept through… _Well, they were in a hurry, it’s not hard to miss a stray._ Maybe he was the only one left.

 _No way._ Something wasn’t right here.

She felt suddenly torn. She needed to get back to her squad, warn them there were enemies still on the loose. But Winnie was somewhere in this village, on his own– _He can take care of himself!_ But she’d never seen him snap like this.

She knew what it was: the threat of the Winter Soldier hanging over his head, over their heads. He knew what HYDRA’s Soldier was capable of. Yet something in Arianna screamed against it. Part of it was a strange kind of hope, ‘innocence’ her brother called it, that not even this war had really driven out of her. She wanted nothing more that to believe the best about people, even when there was a high chance they could kill you.

She had seen the Soldier’s face, knew who he truly had been. He had been her hero. Well, tied for second with Captain Rogers, after her brother of course. And she couldn’t let go of a hope that maybe, that man was still in there somewhere.

She also knew, in that way of simple understanding, that Captain Steve Rogers hoped the same. That he was looking for his friend. Part of it was something he’d let slip in an interview she’d read, about a month after the helicarrier wreck in the Potomac River in Washington DC. But it was more than that. He would go to the ends of the earth to find Barnes. How did she know that? Because it was what she’d do for Winnie.

She needed to move.

But she didn’t.

She kept scanning, looking for movement, shadows in the buildings, some of which were still two stories. No one, except for that man. Oh, shoot, he’d disappeared. 

For several moments she lay quite still, moving only her eyes, heart hammering against her ribcage, against her bullet-proof vest.

Arianna sensed it before she saw it, and then she stopped breathing, listening now with every fibre of her being. She wasn’t sure if the sound of someone else breathing was her imagination or not. But someone was there. Behind her, standing outside her hiding place. She could feel the hot sun on her boots, knew they were visible from outside her hiding place. For a dozen heartbeats she waited for an explosion. Which never came.

And somehow, _somehow_ , there was no explanation for it, but… _she knew._ She knew who was standing, silent as statue outside her hiding place. Waiting for her to come out.

Without moving her legs, she twisted to look back out from under the tin roofing, saw a pair of filthy brown work boots, and legs clad in ragged… jeans.

He was just… standing there.

Arianna’s second thought after _It’s him_ , was: _He’s alive._

And then she was scrambling backwards, ducking out into the blazing sunshine, and pushing herself to her feet. Unarmed, and unafraid, she straightened to her full height, and stared up into the face of the Winter Soldier.

****

Long, dirty, dark hair, down to his shoulders. Ragged long sleeved shirt and black jeans. All dirty. Unless he was hiding a handgun in a pocket, or had a knife, he was unarmed. But all she really noticed were his eyes. They bored into her, dark, intense, afraid. Afraid to move, afraid to stay. He was poised, watchful, ready to bolt. But he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off hers.

“Go,” was the first thing Arianna blurted, before she collected herself. “Look, you need to get out of here, there’s someone looking for you, they… they want to kill you.” She gulped, fear suddenly rising in her. Not fear for herself. Fear for the man standing opposite her.

Because those, those were not the eyes of a man who had just killed. Those were the eyes of a man who had killed too much, and would die before he did it again.

“Please, get out of here. If my men find you, they’ll think you did it, they’ll think you shot the Doc. Someone already does. You need to get out. You need to go.”

He did not move, and she stopped, confused, and suddenly despairing. Her Doc had just been killed, and now she was trying to help an innocent man escape, and he didn’t seem to hear her.

Or…

Maybe he heard her. And maybe he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Maybe he couldn’t believe that she would care about him, that she would want to save him.

He stood there, vibrating with tension, yet his eyes remained locked on her face, fearful, searching. No, this was not the Winter Soldier. But somehow, it wasn’t exactly Sergeant Barnes either.

Arianna shifted her footing, squinting in the sun, which suddenly seemed a lot hotter, as if a thin cloud had moved away from it. She stared up into those dark, inscrutable eyes, searching for the man, the man who fought, and protected, and laid down his life for his friends. The man whose heart still beat in that chest. And maybe a man who still hoped.

And then she realized that he was doing the same thing.

She felt as if he was looking _inside_ her, past the uniform and combat gear, past the tight braid and dusty boots and tough army stare. And he saw _her._ He saw the girl who chased her brother into the darkest corners of the woods, and loved sitting in the tree swing, and always went barefoot in the summer. He saw the girl who still dreamed.

She blinked, remembered her mission, and was startled at the sudden surge of protectiveness that gripped her heart, a feeling she always held for her men when one of them was threatened. And now she felt it for this man, (not this Soldier) this _Winter_. “Please,” she blurted again, “go, just… go. I know it wasn’t you, but if my men see you–” She felt like she was begging now. But his gaze stayed glued to her face.

Arianna was still on alert though, her eyes darting away in quick glances, but always coming back to the worn bearded face opposite her. Until she spotted a movement in the corner of her eye.

The world slowed down again.

She saw the man in the black shirt, standing off to their right, back against one of the buildings, rifle rising to his shoulder. If Winter had turned his head just slightly, he might have caught it too.

He didn’t.

She threw herself forward, feeling the bullet pass over her head as she went down, Winter falling under her. She was covering him with her body, her shoulder shielding his face and head, while she covered her own head with one hand.

Shots cracked through the air, bullets falling around them.

It was only one shooter, and the hail soon stopped. Coughing on a spray of dust, Arianna rolled off, pushing herself to her hands and knees, hand scrabbling at the front of her vest for her handgun, screaming at Winter: “Run! Go! Get out of here!”

She was crouching, bringing her pistol to bear on the man in black, when she froze. He was gone.

At that moment it suddenly slammed into her brain that she was crouching in the middle of an open square, the nearest house a good twenty feet away, alone and completely exposed. She felt as if she was pinned to the ground by the eyes of at least a dozen gunmen, all staring down their rifle sights at her, and she _knew_ , in that way of a hunted animal:

_I’m gonna die._

Something struck her, driving her against the ground, knocking the breath out of her lungs. She barely avoided sucking in a lungful of pure Afghani dust, before twisting her head to the side, gasping, coughing. An explosion of shots, bullets slamming into the dirt, spraying her face. But nothing else touched her.

A shadow covered her face, something above her…

He covered her completely, one arm over her head, his metal fingers wrapped around her wrist, tucking her hand in under him, against her side. She could feel the weight of his body, but it was oddly… light.

She could hear his breathing in her ear, sharp and fast, while the bullets rained down, and he shielded her. Surrounded by death, she had never felt safer.

She breathed in a moment that lasted a dozen seconds, and stayed with her forever.

Arianna knew he must have taken at least a few bullets, but then there were shouts, the gunfire suddenly lessened—at least the shots directed at them. Winter was gone, and she was shoving herself to her feet, sprinting with her arm over her head, diving for cover in another broken down house.

Rolling to her feet, back against the wall, gun in hand, head on a swivel.

Voices shouting, calling her name.

And then there were hands on her arms, pulling at her, bodies pressed around her, they were running, stumbling, scrambling through the rocks and broken houses.

She heard one more shot behind them, but the men around her were not glancing back. She ran in the middle of her team, stumbled, someone caught her, swore at her. They swung around the end of a wall, and then, quite suddenly, they were on the outskirts of the village, and there was the injured Afghani man, two soldiers still with him.

The squad pulled up, the last man spinning and dropping to one knee, right where the wall ended; on guard.

Arianna hadn’t even caught her breath, when she heard other soldiers cursing her, beginning to call her names under their breaths. And out loud.

“Prichard! Are you all right?” came the Lieutenant’s sharp voice, and he grabbed her sleeve.

But someone else grabbed her by the shoulders.

“What the ever-living _hell, Arianna?!?!?”_

Arianna snapped her head back, stared up at her brother’s furious face. With the adrenaline still surging through her blood, she didn’t think twice about yelling back.

“He covered me! He covered me! I won’t let you hurt him, I won’t! He covered me! He saved my life!” The words burst out of her. “The Winter Soldier saved my life!”

****

They sat on a pile of sandbags, slumped against the HESCO wall outside the barracks, waiting for the sun to rise.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Winnie said, his voice slow with exhaustion.

“But he must have been wounded. There’s no way he could have–”

“Well, he’s gone. There’s nothing more you can do.”

“He saved my life!” Arianna burst out.

“Yeah? He was just… returning the favour. You saved his life, he saved yours. You’re even.” There was an odd tone in his voice.

“Even?” She turned to him, exasperated. “Since when does being even matter? If all we want is to be even, we’ll never get anywhere in life. Not anywhere that matters, anyway.”

Winnie stared moodily ahead, without seeing. She knew most of what he was feeling, the grief over losing Doc, the anger at the sniper, the guilt of putting Arianna in harm’s way, and a kind of… jealousy that it had been some random stranger who had risked his life for Winnie’s sister. The one he’d promised…

“’To hell and back’ we say,” she went on. “So, I save you, you save me… Are we even?”

Winnie gave a little groan. “It’s not _like_ that.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m gonna keep on saving you, no matter how many times you can—or can’t—return the favour.”

“But I’m your brother.”

Arianna gestured over her shoulder to where the soldiers slept behind them, then waved her hand to take in the whole outpost. “So are they.”

Winnie glanced at her, and their eyes held for a long moment, before she reached over and rested her hand on his knee. “You’re not the only one. But you were the first. And the best.”

This time the pause was easier.

The sky was now a deep blue, but the east was awash with paler colours.

Arianna had no reasonable explanation for the feeling in her chest, the longing to reach out her hand and pull that man, that Winter, to safety; knowing he was out there somewhere, wounded, on the run, fighting to stay alive. She remembered the feel of his body on top of hers, covering her, shielding her, so that she lay on the ground in absolute safety. But there was something else that had captivated her, even before that. A kind of belief or hope, and maybe even… an understanding.

“He’s someone’s brother too, you know. Or did you forget?” she added.

Winnie gave a grunt.

“He’s looking for him.”

She glanced over at her brother’s profile, suddenly wishing he would reach out and put his arm around her shoulders, let her lean into him.

“He’s not here anymore,” Winnie mumbled.

“You think that would stop him?” She turned her head to watch the pink fading to gold.

“Well,” Winnie started, sounding almost apologetic, “he’s not who he used to be.”

“If it was me…” she started. “And you…” She paused. “Captain Canada,” she added.

And now she heard the rustle of his uniform, and his hand rested on her shoulder, before moving to squeeze the back of her neck. “To hell and back, stupid.”

He pulled her head down onto his shoulder and Arianna felt her lips tremble, before she bit down on them. “To hell and back, idiot.” When she could be sure of her voice not cracking, she added, “You see what I mean?”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence, and Arianna closed her eyes, listening to her brother breathe. The rhythm steadied her, as it had so many times before. She felt the comfort of his presence wrap around her, easing the ache in her heart.

Finally when Winnie yawned twice in quick succession, he got his feet. “Sleep, Sarge.” 

Arianna caught his hand, and he pulled her up. As she followed him into the barracks, the first rays of sunlight came spilling across the landscape and they paused.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

Arianna blinked, remembered those dark eyes staring into hers… they had been blue, she remembered suddenly. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Something, I know. Something.” Because those eyes would never let her forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Military jargon:  
> ANA=Afghan National Army  
> IED=Improvised Explosive Device
> 
> I hope that wasn't too terrible. I liked it anyway.  
> Hope you did too.  
> Kudos+comments always appreciated.  
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
